


This Isn't What It Looks Like

by ParzivalHallows



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Nightwing (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Mistaken for Being in a Relationship, There will be more characters and pairings later, batbros
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-09
Updated: 2015-03-09
Packaged: 2018-03-17 02:59:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3512684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ParzivalHallows/pseuds/ParzivalHallows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Somehow the Bat-Family always manages to get themselves into awkward situations. Somehow Batman always seems to be the one to find them in these situations... just a bunch of humorous one-shots.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Isn't What It Looks Like

Bruce had a last-minute scheduled meeting at Wayne Enterprises, and Alfred was visiting his sick cousin with whom he was very close to. Jason was still riding solo somewhere, not that any of them wanted the hero-turned-criminal there anyway. Therefore, this left Dick to take responsibility of Tim and Damian. Needless to say, he wasn't exactly thrilled with the idea. He'd been in Bludhaven, on holiday from his day-job, relaxing, when he'd gotten the call. Looking back, he probably should have lied and said that he was too busy to watch the two birds. However that damn honest streak had flared up as it always did in unfortunate situations. Plus, Bruce would have been able to see straight through his lie.

 

Bruce had barely said a relieved "goodbye" to Dick when he whisked out of the manor. Half of Dick wished he could go with him. He turned around and spotted Damian, who was glaring at him through narrow eyes. Dick rolled his own, not in the least intimidated, and pushed past him. Damian let out an affronted noise which Dick ignored. Usually, he'd love to see his siblings, but not when it was Damian and Tim… _together_.

 

"Where's Tim?" Dick asked, to be rewarded with an eye-roll from Damian. "Should I care what that imbecile does in his free time?" Dick groaned, and pinched the bridge of his nose, "Damian…"

 

"Fine," said Damian, lifting his chin, "he's probably moping somewhere in his room."

 

"Thank you," Dick said, but the words seemed to fly over the young child's head. Sighing, he made his way up the stairs and through the hallway, almost walking past Tim's room in favor of going to his own. He whipped back around and knocked gently on the door before opening it, "Tim?"

 

"Hmm – Oh Dick, it's you!" Tim had been sitting at his desk, going over some homework, but quickly threw himself at Dick, almost knocking him over. "I missed you!"

 

"I can tell," said Dick, a smile on his face. If he couldn't talk to Damian, he could at least talk to Tim. Most of the time.

 

"Where's the demon?" Dick mentally sighed. Here it came.

 

"He's downstairs."

 

Tim shrugged, as though he hadn't really wanted an answer to his question. "Then we'd probably better avoid downstairs then."

 

Dick frowned at him, "Why?"

 

Tim stared at him blankly, "Does there need to be a reason?"

 

"Tim…"

 

Tim let out a frustrated noise, "Oh god not you too! He's already corrupted you with his evil powers!"

 

"Evil powers?" asked Dick, trying not to laugh.

 

"Yes!" stated Tim vehemently, "that little demon child seems to make everyone like him! Why! What is there to like about him? He's a lying bastard who –"

 

"Tim!" Dick exclaimed, feeling a bit appalled. Tim didn't seem to hear him, "stupid little snot-nosed –"

 

"Tim," Dick growled, a far cry different from his last lightened tone. Tim stopped his rant and looked up at him, blinking his blue eyes slowly. Dick mentally sighed, this was going to be a long day. How did Alfred and Bruce put up with them? Hell, they weren't even in the same room and he was already breaking up their fights. "We need to go downstairs."

 

"What? No we don't!" said Tim quickly, glaring at the staircase as though it had done him a personal wrong.

 

"Yes, we do," Dick insisted, "I'm here to watch _both_ of you and I can't be both upstairs and downstairs at the same time!"

 

"But… but…" Tim looked extremely conflicted, having nothing to fight back with, "Oh fine. You keep that thing away from me though, you hear?"

 

Dick rolled his eyes as Tim fell in step with him, going down the stairs. "I hear you loud and clear."

 

Damian was waiting for them by the steps – or at least for Dick. He ignored Tim completely, instead turning to Dick. "I am hungry, and I demand food!"

 

Dick blinked at him. He hadn't actually considered the fact that he would be feeding them. _Shit. What do I do now? I'm not a good cook!_

 

"Um… do you want to get take-out?"

 

"Take-out?" Damian sounded disgusted. "I will not ingest that fake food!" Dick groaned, "Dami…"

 

"I also want to be preferred by my given name!" Damian spat. Dick quickly formulated a plan in his mind, "Alright then Little D –"

 

"Grayson!"

 

"Don't you 'Grayson' me," Dick suddenly growled, and Damian and Tim stared at him. Dick rarely took on that tone, especially not with Damian.

 

"Tim, what do you want?"

 

"Pizza!" Tim exclaimed, eyes brightening.

 

"Tt." Damian, of course. "Pizza is an undesirable food."

 

Dick knew it was wrong, but Damian was starting to get to him, so he decided to agree with Tim.

 

"Pizza sounds fine with me."

 

"I refuse to eat -!"

 

"Oh fine!" Dick snapped, "I'll make you something, and me and Tim will enjoy the pizza. Happy?" Damian narrowed his eyes at him, then he let out another "Tt" and crossed his arms.

 

"Fine Grayson, you make me a meal and you two can have that disgusting food. If it could even be considered food."

 

Dick ignored his last comment, "what do you want me to make?"

 

Damian tilted his head, "Tortellini soup."

 

"WHAT?!"

 

Damian rose an eyebrow, "Is there something wrong?"

 

"Yeah, I don't know how to make it!"

 

"Tt! It's easy!"

 

"If it's so easy then why don't you do it?" That was Tim.

 

"I have nothing to say to you, Drake," said Damian coolly. "Now, make me my tortellini soup."

 

Dick was at a loss. How the hell would he make 'tortellini soup'? Maybe… he'd check the kitchen, see if Alfred had anything. The only thing is he didn't know what it even _looked_ like.

 

"I wish for it to be creamy, as well," Damian added as an afterthought, and Dick froze. There was more than one way to make tortellini soup? "Tim," Dick said, "call for pizza, I don't care what you put on it."

 

Tim nodded and rushed off to get the phone, glad to be rid of Damian's presence. "Lil' D come with me, we can make the soup together."

 

"I told you to stop calling me that, Grayson!"

 

"If you don't want me to call you by your nicknames, then I'm not making you anything."

 

Ouch. Low blow Dick. But it seemed to work. Damian scowled at him, but followed him into the kitchen all the same, mumbling darkly under his breath.

 

"Aaaalright. So… how do I make it?"

 

Damian shot him a scathing look, "you don't know how to make soup?"

 

"Tortellini soup is different!" said Dick, offended. Damian just rolled his eyes. "Pennyworth keeps a recipe book behind the fridge," he said, sounding unwilling to admit this information. He shifted uncomfortably. Dick didn't think anything of it as he found the (rather enormous) recipe book, flipping through the pages. "Here it is!" said Dick, unsurprised that Alfred would own something like this. "Let's see… first… um… Damian list off the ingredients and I'll look for them."

 

Damian rolled his eyes but reached for the book anyway, the large book almost falling out of his small hands. "2 whole large cloves of minced garlic…2 tablespoons of olive oil…2 10¾ cans of condensed tomato soup –"

 

"Wait, there's tomato soup?"

 

"That's the creamy one!" said Damian defiantly, and Dick sighed. He rummaged through the cabinets and found a can of tomato soup, slightly surprised that Alfred didn't have everything home-made. He had to stifle a chuckle at the thought. As Damian kept listing the ingredients, Dick started to feel more and more weary. It didn't help that the directions were just as hard as finding the ingredients. "What does 'bring to a simmer' mean?"

 

Damian stared at him, as though he couldn't quite believe Dick would voice such a stupid question. "You're twenty four, figure it out!"

 

Before Dick could reply, there was a loud ring that signified the doorbell. "Tim get the door!"

 

No reply. In response to this, Dick accidentally turned the stove all the way up, ignoring the blue flames that ignited. "TIM, GET THE DOOR!"

 

Again, no response. Cursing under his breath, Dick stalked out of the kitchen and into the hallway. "Tim?"

 

The doorbell rang again insistently, and Dick sighed before answering it. Dick almost took a step back out of shock with what greeted him. At first Dick couldn't make out the delivery guy, because the ten boxes of pizza were blocking his view. "What the…?"

 

"You ordered all of this pizza?" the delivery guy snapped, and Dick blinked. "Um…"

 

_Tim. Dammit._

 

"Yes, let me take that from you."

 

The delivery man was obviously very relieved as he helped Dick bring the boxes of pizza in. "Thanks again," said Dick as the delivery person practically fled out the door. With what felt like the umpteenth time, Dick sighed. It was then that he noticed a peculiar smell… something familiar… his suspicions were confirmed as the fire alarm rang through the entire manor. Damian came racing in the room, covered in what looked like grime and ash, practically barreling into Dick.

 

"Dami – what -?"

 

"NICE GOING GRAYSON, YOU MANAGED TO SET THE HOUSE ON FIRE!" Damian screamed at a very shocked and petrified Dick. "I… what…" he raced into the kitchen and automatically shielded his eyes at the sight of the fire, which was blazing from the stove. It was with a sinking feeling that he realized he'd probably set the whole manor on fire just trying to make soup…

 

It took only seconds for him to race into the other room, grab a struggling Damian, and rush him out of the manor.

 

"OUCH Grayson, what are you –"

 

"Where's Tim!?" Dick demanded, cutting off Damian as he practically dropped the boy onto the grass. "How should I know? Inside –"

 

Dick didn't need any more information as he raced back inside the manor, the heat from the kitchen making sweat appear. "Tim? TIM! TIM!?"

 

"DICK!?" he heard the petrified squeak from his left, and he spotted Tim, who had some toilet paper stuck to his foot. "TIM!" bursting with relief, Dick rushed towards his younger brother and grabbed him, throwing him over his shoulder and racing them both out of the manor. "Dick, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to order ten boxes I meant to order ten slices – and I was in the bathroom so I couldn't get the door – oh my god is that toilet paper?!" Dick wasn't sure how to react to the fact that Tim seemed more concerned about the pizza boxes and bathroom break then the fire.

 

Sirens were blaring through the streets, and Dick spotted firetrucks speeding towards the manor. Smoke was already starting to pour from the kitchen window. _I am never making soup again._  

* * *

 

Bruce rubbed his head as he sped down the road, glancing at the time. 7:30… maybe he could stop to grab some food on the way home… after all, Dick was probably taking good care of his two monsters –um, children. Yeah, he'd stop to get something to eat.

 

No he was _definitely_ not putting off seeing his sons again. He was just… hungry…and also well aware that there was food in the manor. He groaned, not sure of what to do. _Maybe I'll just grab some Arby's…_ his thoughts were cut off by the sound of sirens, he quickly pulled over to the side of the road so that the firetrucks could speed past him. It didn't register at first that the direction they were going to was the dead end that led to the manor.

 

When it _did_ hit him, it hit him full force. "SHIT!" slamming on his gas, the car was flying almost as quickly as the firetrucks were. He thought the worst when he saw the smoke in the air when he got close enough to the manor he could just see its outline. _Ohgodohgodohgod please be okay, please let them all be safe…_

 

There were lots of men dressed in standard firefighter uniforms, rushing towards his manor. Then he saw an awkward figure running towards the end of the lawn. He had to blink several times to realize that it was not an awkward figure at all – it was Dick carrying both Damian and Tim on each shoulder. Cursing, he slammed on his breaks and practically flew out of his car, running towards his three children.

 

"DICK!" The figure jumped before turning to look at him, putting Tim and Damian down. Damian was covered in grime, and Dick and Tim were covered in sweat. He stared at them, then at the manor… wait… the whole manor wasn't on fire… the kitchen…

 

His gaze turned back to Dick, this time incredulous. Dick's eyes were wide, but he still shuffled his feet as though he were a young boy about to get a scolding. "Um, this isn't what it looks like…"


End file.
